Brad Thor - The Lions Of Lucerne

As the creaky old train rolled and squealed its way up the mountain, Harvath consulted his schedule. It was 8:03, and the train was pulling into Schwendi. One more stop and they would be in Grindelwald.

Six minutes later on the dot, the quaint village, bathed in early morning light, rose directly up in front of them. Its glitzy shops and sports stores were all modestly housed in beautiful traditional Swiss chalets of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. Early-rising Europeans garbed in brightly colored outfits clunked along the streets in heavy ski boots with skis slung casually over one shoulder. It reminded him of Park City. Scot envied them their carefree strides and the ease of the day that faced them-where to ski, followed only by where to eat. He, on the other hand, had no such luck in predicting what the day would bring.

His plan was to get up to the Jungfraujoch early and scout things out. While he could have taken the 6:35 train from Interlaken, he’d worried about being there too early and not having any crowds he could blend in with. Judging from the number of passengers on his train, he had made the right choice. A nice Saturday tourist throng would provide cover and help keep him safe. It would also be easy to disappear into if it came to that.

At Grindelwald, passengers were required to transfer to a cogwheel railway. The view of the Eiger from the station was incredible. Scot had seen some pretty crazy things in his time, but he never understood why anyone would willingly choose to climb a mountain, especially one like the Eiger.

Harvath took a last look back at the Hotel Derby and Grand Hotel Regina, which flanked the Grindelwald train station, as he crossed the platform toward the cogwheel train. It was composed entirely of second-class cars divided into smoking and nonsmoking sections. Noticing that the passengers were predominantly European and Japanese, he knew that the biggest crowd would be found in the smoking car and grudgingly climbed aboard. The honey-colored wooden seats were uncomfortable, but the incredible view of the snow-covered mountains made up for it in spades.

The cogwheel railway wove slowly in and out between houses and small farms on the outskirts of Grindelwald. As they drew even with the face of the Eiger, the train stopped at Grindelwald Grund, Grindelwald’s second station, whose parking lot was filled with tour buses. The Good Morning Ticket seemed to have a lot of cost-conscious fans. As new passengers boarded, all of the remaining seats were quickly taken. Smoke filled the compartment, and Harvath was happy no one complained when he reached up for the two knobs imbedded in the glass window and pulled it down a fraction to let in some fresh air. A Japanese man, sensing Scot was not a smoker, laughed and offered him a cigarette.

The train picked up speed, and the chalets grew farther and farther apart. Harvath knew from experience that in the spring and summer the fields they were now passing would be filled with a chorus of ringing bells hanging from the necks of grazing sheep, goats, and cows. Each group of bells had a different tone so the farmer could recognize his own livestock, even in dense fog.

At Kleine Scheidegg, passengers changed to the final train that would take them all the way to the top of the Jungfrau. The red crushed-velour seats were a welcome respite from the wooden ones of the previous train. Harvath remained with his group of European and Japanese smokers, who were upset to find that for the rest of the ride there would be no smoking.

For this leg of the journey, Scot and his fellow passengers were traveling completely inside the mountain. At 9,400 feet above sea level, the train stopped for five minutes at the Eigerwand station, where windows had been carved out of the rock face so passengers could look out onto Kleine Scheidegg and the Grindelwald valley far below.

The next stop was for another five cold minutes to overlook the glacier at the Eismeer station, 10,368 feet above sea level. Harvath filed off the train and pretended to absorb the breathtaking views with the rest of the passengers.

Back on board, his heart began to beat faster, and he felt moisture forming on his palms. He leaned back in his seat, somewhat reassured by the sharp stab of the plastic Glock in his waistband.

Only moments after the train began moving, the overhead speaker began playing another tape-recorded message. It came as the others had, first in German, then French, followed by Italian, Spanish, and finally English:

“This is Jungfraujoch. The highest railway station in Europe, 3,354 meters above sea level. Please follow the direction signs to observation points and the restaurants. Thank you for your visit, and we wish you a pleasant stay on the Jungfraujoch.”

Pleasant stay. As the train came into the final station and the doors opened, Harvath knew there wasn’t much chance of that.

Harvath looked at his watch. It was exactly 9:53 A.M. The Swiss were amazingly precise. Not one of the trains he had been on in the last three days had wavered one minute from its timetable. He had just over two hours to survey the area and get ready for his meeting with dear Aunt Jane.

Harvath didn’t waste time. From the station, he measured how long it took him to get to the Ice Palace. Thirty meters deep within the glacier, it was a horseshoe-shaped tunnel carved completely out of the ice. Even the floor was ice. The Europeans didn’t have the healthy fear of lawsuits that the Americans did. Getting any traction on the floor was next to impossible. The best one could do was a shuffle that mimicked ice-skating.

He continued on to the outdoor plateau, then back inside to check the rest rooms, shops, restaurants, and the exhibition hall. He passed the blue coin-operated luggage lockers and made his way up the long hallway to the Eiger climbing wall and the computers that let you send free E-mails from “The Top of Europe.” He was tempted, but decided against it. Taking the fastest elevator in Switzerland he arrived at the Sphinx observation area and weather station. After a good look around, he descended in the elevator and headed outside to the “Adventure” area, with its dog sled rides, tobogganing, skiing, and snowboarding. The slopes were already packed.

The fact that almost the entire complex was buried deep within the icy mountain gave Scot an odd feeling of déjà vu. His mind wandered to being caught in the avalanche with Amanda. As quickly as the thought came up, Scot slammed shut an iron door to that part of himself and focused on the job at hand.

He suspected Aunt Jane and her people would show up on the 10:53 train, if they hadn’t come on the 9:53 with him or arrived even earlier on the 8:53. He felt certain that they would not be coming on the one that arrived at seven minutes before noon. That would be cutting it too close and would not give them enough time to case the area and make sure it wasn’t a trap.

Scot kept his eyes open the entire time he was surveying the Jungfraujoch. He looked for that same blue quilted coat and brown cap or any man that might be of the same build. He soon found that style of jacket to be quite popular with the Europeans and was frustrated on three different occasions when he thought he had spotted his prey.

For his part, he kept his wool cap pulled tight around his ears and the collar of his coat turned up. He glanced at the exhibits, picked up postcards, and looked for souvenirs while marking in his memory each nook, cranny, crevice, and exit door that could hide an enemy or provide a means of escape for him if necessary. One of the biggest advantages the Jungfraujoch had presented when he was considering it for his meeting was also its biggest disadvantage. There was only one way in or out…by train. Scot began to realize how stupid he might have been. Whether his head was still scrambled or he had just been too desperate to think of something else, he was quickly beginning to realize that this was not one of his all-time greatest plans. Control of the situation was everything. If he lost control, things would go very bad very fast.